


Love You Two

by CirrusGrey



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, Enthusiastic Consent, Episode Related, Explicit Sexual Content, Fucking, M/M, NOBODY LOOK AT ME I'M EMBARRASSED THAT I WROTE THIS, NSFW section is skippable see author’s note, Selfcest, Sexual Content, ace subtype: likes watching their partner but doesn't want to participate, episode 186 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27491188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CirrusGrey/pseuds/CirrusGrey
Summary: SPOILERS FOR MAG 186!!!When Jon finds Martin, there are two of him.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Also Martin Blackwood, Martin Blackwood/Martin Blackwood
Comments: 26
Kudos: 227





	Love You Two

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe this is the first straight-up porn I've ever written and it's Martin selfcest.
> 
> That being said, the porn (and selfcest) is skippable if you read up to "...he's never going to turn down an opportunity to kiss Martin, no matter how strange the circumstances," and exit the story from there.

When Jon finds Martin, there are two of him.

"Jon!" says one, a wide smile splitting his face as he walks a bit faster to reach him, while the other's eyebrows climb up his forehead and he says, "There you are."

Jon blinks. "Hi. What, um..."

The first Martin stops in front of him, looking suddenly nervous. "Oh, it's, um... I sort of... made him? Manifested my own subconscious into... well, him?"

The second Martin reaches them, a sad smile rising on his face. "We were trying so hard not to give into the comforts of being alone that he created me so we wouldn't be able to."

The first Martin winces at this, looking embarrassed, and the second adds, "Sorry. I'm a bit more blunt than he is. The 'subconscious made manifest' metaphor is pretty accurate, actually."

Jon looks between the two. The first - Martin - still looks embarrassed, but he's also smiling slightly as if in exasperation at himself. The second - inner Martin? - is a bit more subdued, a bit more sad. They are both, undeniably, the man Jon loves, and it goes some way to explaining why the Eye isn't sending him any warnings or explanations about this. There is nothing that needs to be explained: it's just Martin.

He shakes his head, stepping forward with a fond smile and opening his arms. The left goes around the shoulders of Martin, the right around the shoulders of his other self, and he tugs them both into a simultaneous hug, squeezing tight.

"I love you, you ridiculously complicated man," he says, as both Martins make a little noise of surprise. "Are you alright? It doesn't hurt, being two people, does it?"

"Bit confusing, but I'm fine," says Martin, while the other Martin says, "We're fine, we've just had to confront a few uncomfortable truths about ourself."

Each Martin has one arm wrapped around Jon's back, and one free. Jon is pretty sure he sees Martin use his free arm to smack his own subconscious on the elbow. The only response it elicits is a raised eyebrow.

Jon snorts. "Play nice," he says, "I'm not letting anyone criticize my boyfriend, not even my boyfriend."

"Oh, this is  _ so  _ weird," Martin says, and leans his head in to rest it on Jon's shoulder. He mimics his own movement on the other side, and Jon lets out a soft huff of breath at the double warmth of Martin leaning into him on either side.

He tightens his hold, drawing Martin-

Drawing Martin and other Martin-

Drawing both Martins-

Drawing  _ Martin  _ close enough that both of his shoulders bump against each other, and Jon tips his own head forward to rest on the spot where they touch. It is strange, how much it feels like he's only hugging one person, even though there are two bodies in his arms.

After a moment he lifts his head again, twitching his left shoulder until Martin raises his head on that side, and leans in to kiss him.

Both Martins freeze.

Jon pauses, looking between them: Martin on the left, head raised, surprise written across his face; the other Martin on the right, head still resting on his shoulder, eyes sad.

"Everything alright?" he asks, addressing both of them as a whole.

"Of course it is!" Martin says, on his left, and, "No, but you don't need to stop," Martin also says, from the right.

It feels somewhat unfair to Martin to take advantage of having his subconscious out in the real world like this, offering the open and unfiltered options he usually tries to keep to himself. Still, it saves the long minutes of pestering and prying it normally takes to get him to admit what's really going on.

"What's wrong?" Jon asks softly, lifting both his hands from Martin's backs to card his fingers through their hair.

Martin's eyes focus on the movement when Jon cradles the other Martin's head against his right shoulder, but all he says is: "It's nothing, really, don't listen to him."

"Martin..." Jon says slowly, eyebrows furrowing as a thought begins to take shape in his mind. Martin's eyes are still fixed on his hand. "Are you... jealous? Of yourself?"

_ "What?" _ Martin splutters, gaze wrenching up to meet Jon's eyes. "No!"

"It's fine if you are," Jon says quickly, making to step back from the hug, but he is stopped by both Martins tightening their arms around him. "I can wait to kiss you until you're back in one body."

"It's not that," Martin says, and speaks over himself from the other side to say, "We're scared."

"Scared?" Jon repeats, looking between the two. "Of what?"

Martin doesn't answer, just jerks his chin at his other self to prompt him to speak. The other Martin sighs. "We're scared you won't like me. Like I said before, I'm more... open, than he is. We've spent most of our life trying to make other people happy, and a lot of that involves only saying what we think people want to hear, and hiding the bits of ourself we don't like. I don't do that, and we're scared that you won't like how honest I am, even about the bad stuff. We're scared you won't like the person we are when we're not pretending."

Something in Jon's chest aches at the thought, at the idea that Martin still feels there are things he can't share with Jon for fear of driving him off.

"Oh,  _ Martin," _ he says softly. "I love you. All of you, even the parts you don't like."

He leans to the left, pressing a soft kiss to Martin's lips; they part, slightly, under his own, but he is still tense in Jon's arms. Jon pulls back, smiles at Martin, and turns to the right.

The other Martin has lifted his head from Jon's shoulder, and is watching him with cautious eyes. Jon runs his hand through his hair, just once, and then tangles his fingers in the loose curls at the base of his skull.

"I love you," he says, looking him directly in the eye, and then kisses him, too.

There is a soft gasp from behind him, a startled breath as Martin watches Jon kiss his other self. Jon hopes he's not revising his 'not jealous of himself' judgement, because he is finding it genuinely impossible to distinguish a difference between kissing the one Martin and kissing the other. Perhaps it is the Eye's influence granting him the sure and certain knowledge that they are, indeed, one and the same person; perhaps he just knows Martin well enough to judge for himself.

Either way, as Jon tilts his head to deepen the kiss, licking past Martin's lips to taste the tea lingering on his tongue, he is finding it very difficult to think of this as anything other than kissing his boyfriend, no matter the fact that his boyfriend happens to be inhabiting two bodies at the moment.

The arms around his back tighten, and Martin makes a soft, wounded noise, head falling onto Jon's left shoulder as he continues to kiss the other Martin on his right. Jon pulls back to check on him: his free hand is fisted in the other Martin's jacket, and the other Martin's hand is likewise in his; they are pulling each other close, keeping themselves pressed tight to each other's sides so they can keep Jon sandwiched in the angle between them.

Martin is looking up at him from where his head rests on his shoulder, expression completely open and unguarded.

Jon kisses him, twisting at an awkward angle to reach his lips. He turns his head, and kisses the other Martin too.

"I love you," he says again, looking between the two of them. "Both of you. All of you.  _ Martin, _ the you that you show to the world and the you that you hide away. I love you."

Both of them are breathing shakily. Martin stands on his toes to press a kiss to Jon's right cheek; he nuzzles into his collarbone on the left. "We love you too," he says, and Jon cannot tell which side it came from but he doesn't think it matters.

Jon holds him closer, all of him; kisses where he can reach. He is interrupted by one of Martin's hands snaking up into his hair, holding his head steady; before he can ask about it, both Martins have reached up to kiss him on his cheeks, simultaneously, and Jon feels so loved in that moment that he thinks his heart might explode.

He turns his head one way; meets Martin's lips. Turns the other; does the same. He is about to turn back, swapping kisses between each Martin just because he can, when Martin laughs, and leans in, and suddenly both of them are kissing him, at once, each pressing their lips to one corner of his mouth.

Jon hums, eyes sliding closed. It is... an interesting sensation, to be sure. There's a bit of a space problem with three noses pressed so close together, but Martin has managed an angle on each side that limits the collisions between them. It's impossible for Jon to kiss him back properly, too, but that doesn't stop his mouth falling open on a delighted breath when Martin's lips move against his own.

They pull back for a moment to breathe.

"This alright?" Martin asks, from the left, and Jon laughs breathlessly.

"Overwhelming in a good way. It's..." He shakes his head, smiling. "It's just you. Just... you." There are no other words to express just how it feels to be kissed by one person with two mouths. It's just Martin, in all his complexity. "How is it for you?"

"Hot," says Martin, from Jon's right, and then he exclaims in indignation from the left. "Don't tell him that!"

"Why not? It's true," Martin says, and "Yeah, but it's also  _ weird," _ he rebuts.

Jon blinks. "Is this what your internal monologue is like all the time?"

"Pretty much," says Martin, and Martin glares at him and adds, "It's a lot easier to shut him up when he's still stuck in my subconscious and can't go around  _ telling people _ these things."

Martin shrugs. "Jon doesn't seem to mind."

They both turn to look at him. He gives them a helpless smile. "I mean, he's right, I don't mind."

"See?" says Martin, and Martin huffs and rolls his eyes.

Jon kisses him, right in the middle of his pout, and that takes the frown right off his lips. The other Martin tugs his head around again, claiming half his mouth, and Jon sighs happily, sinking back into it. It's a  _ weird  _ kiss, to be sure, but he's never going to turn down an opportunity to kiss Martin, no matter how strange the circumstances.

He still has to breathe, though, and after a moment he pulls back to gasp for air, eyes sliding open to smile at Martin.

Who is kissing himself.

He realizes what he's doing after a moment, and his eyes fly open as he jerks his head back. The other Martin, the one on the right, follows after him for a moment, chasing his lips until he sees just how bright red his counterpart has turned.

"I am..." Martin starts, looking horrified,  _ "so _ sorry, Jon, I didn't mean to- you must have pulled back and I didn't even notice-"

"Hey, hey, slow down," Jon says, startled at how upset he seems. The other Martin is calm, watching himself with curious, calculating eyes. "Why are you apologizing?"

"B-because I  _ kissed..." _ Martin says.

"...Yourself," Jon supplies.

"Someone who wasn't you!"

Jon raises an eyebrow. "I don't really think this counts."

"But..." Martin starts, and then interrupts himself. "We're worried you'll see it as cheating," he says, from the right, with that curious expression still in place. "We don't, and we're quite surprised by how much we liked it."

Martin groans. "Shut  _ up!" _

Jon is extremely touched by the consideration. Still, though...

"I  _ really  _ don't think that counts as kissing someone else," he says, "or at least it doesn't feel that way to me. I don't mind, Martin, really."

He looks slightly mollified, though his face is still flame-red. Jon remembers the rest of what he said.

"Actually... I wouldn't mind if you, um, tried again, either." Both Martins look at him: one, a snapping, startled gaze; the other, a calm consideration with a single eyebrow raised. "If you really did like it," Jon clarifies. "It was, ah..." He searches for a way to explain it; to describe the warm bolt of emotion he felt through his chest when he saw Martin melting into his own kiss. "For me, it was like when you get off," he settles on. "Watching something intimate, something vulnerable, something entirely yours that you're choosing to share with me. So if you wanted to continue, I wouldn't mind."

Martin opens and closes his mouth silently, looking at Jon with an indecipherable expression. He also makes a contemplative sound, and says, "Getting ourself off... now there's an interesting idea."

"I would be comfortable with that," Jon says, surprising himself with how sharp his curiosity becomes at the suggestion. He's watched Martin get off before, sat on the sidelines as he brought himself through waves of pleasure and held him while he came down afterward, but this is different, and new.

Martin still has not said anything. He nudges his own shoulder. "Don't lie to yourself. You can't do that, with me here."

His mouth snaps shut, and he nods. "Are you  _ sure  _ you're okay with this, Jon?"

"Positive," Jon confirms. "If you want to do it... honestly, it just sounds like very complicated masturbation, given the whole split-consciousness situation."

"I want to try," Martin says, with a firmness to his voice that makes Jon smile. "Can we kiss you for a bit first?"

"Please do."

It's messier than it was before; more desperate. Martin takes turns licking into Jon's mouth, kissing him deep and passionate, and Jon reciprocates with enthusiasm. Every now and again their heads turn in such a way that Martin is kissing himself; hesitant at first, accidental touches of lips, but growing more confident as they go, until Jon leans back, panting, and watches Martin seemingly try to swallow his own tongue with how deep he is kissing his counterpart.

Things are getting heated. Jon leans back further, enough to draw their attention, and says, "I'm going to step back now, okay? I love you."

Martin's lips are kiss-bitten and red; he's breathing fast on both sides. "Love you too," he says, with a double voice, and Jon receives two surprisingly chaste pecks to his cheeks before he is released from the hug.

He backs up a few paces, then crosses his legs underneath him and sinks to the ground. It's a relief to sit down after all that's happened; he's feeling more than a little weak in the knees.

With Jon on the sidelines, Martin starts making out with himself in earnest. He moans into his own mouth as two hands find their way into his hair, then mirrors it as a third wanders down to squeeze his ass. He looks soft, and needy, leaning into the kiss from both sides, clutching at himself with little, desperate whines slipping out from between them, and Jon thinks he might melt from how much adoration he feels, watching them.

Another hand wanders; another whine is pulled from Martin's throat as his hips twitch forward into the fingers cupping the bulge at the front of his trousers; and the kiss is finally broken so that Martin can gasp a hurried "Lube?" into his counterpart's mouth.

"Probably," he says, which seems like a strange response until Jon realizes he doesn't  _ know  _ if he has a suitable lubricant or not. A quick rifle through a bag proves that he does, and Martin groans when he sees it.

"Really?"

"Sorry," he says. "Tinged with memories, can't help it."

Jon wonders what memories are linked to that particular small tube that has Martin rolling his eyes so severely, but he is certainly not going to interrupt the proceedings to ask.

"Nevermind," he says. "Just come here."

He pulls himself back into the kiss roughly, slamming their mouths together with a bruising force, and Jon makes a mental note to kiss Martin like that later, or have Martin kiss  _ him  _ like that. He hadn't known he was into that kind of thing.

The angle is not good enough for Jon to see which hands are on whose zippers; but after a minute of fumbling both Martins are pushing their trousers off, kicking them to the side along with their shoes, and then Martin is sinking to the ground, pulling himself down after so that they are one on top of the other. In the confusion, Jon has lost track of which is which; but he thinks it's the original Martin on his back in the damp grass, with his counterpart straddling him and pinning him to the ground.

They kiss. Martin lifts his hands, grabbing his hips and pulling him down against himself, and he gasps into his own mouth as they set a rough rhythm of grinding into each other.

They are both already hard, Jon can see that from where he sits. It's not long before they stop, panting, and Martin sits back on his heels to grab for the discarded tube of lubricant. His eyes are fixed on himself as he slicks up his fingers, and Jon can only imagine how strange it must be to see himself like this; then Martin spreads his legs, planting his feet flat against the ground with his knees up, and his counterpart kneels in the space between them with his slick fingers and gets to work.

Martin's eyes slide closed as he pushes one finger into himself. Jon can't see it, from where he sits, but he sees the way his breath hitches and the way his lips part slightly as he starts moving.

He works the finger in slowly, arm moving in a gentle rhythm as he pushes it in, pulls it out, pushes in again. Martin is rocking into the movement, hips shifting down to drive him deeper.

At some point he must add another finger, or two; Martin bites his lip, eyes squeezed shut, and watches at the same time, eyes wide, leaning forward to take in every last detail of his own pleasure writ large across his face as he wrings it from him with every movement of his hand.

He pulls out after a while, hand reaching for the lube again, and slicks his cock quickly and efficiently. He crawls forward, straddling himself. Martin props himself up on his elbows, lifting his head from the ground enough to reach his own mouth, and kisses him, long and deep, before laying back down.

A thought occurs to Jon as he watches, and he finds himself idly thinking  _ Martin is vers, good to know, _ before he catches himself with a baffled frown. There is literally  _ no  _ other situation in their relationship where that knowledge will be applicable, so he's not really sure if 'good to know' is the right phrasing to use. Still, he likes learning about Martin, and he files this information away with the rest of it, safe and treasured in his collection of facts about the man he loves.

His attention is drawn back to the scene before him as both Martins let out a long, drawn-out moan, and he inhales sharply at the sight of Martin being slowly breached by his own cock, the long, thick length of it pressing up inside him in one smooth motion.

They pause for a kiss, grasping at each other's hair, gasping into each other's mouths, once Martin is all the way inside. Then he pulls back, bracing himself against the ground, and starts to move.

Martin fucks Martin hard and fast, pulling small moans and cries of pleasure from his lips with each deep thrust. He claws at his own shoulders, fingers digging into skin as he holds on, bodies rocking together as he drives into himself, over and over.

Jon can't see the place where they are connected, but he can hear the slick noise of it as Martin's cock moves deep inside himself. His own mouth falls open at the sight, breath catching at the naked vulnerability on both Martins' faces, at the trust implicit in allowing Jon to see this moment of ultimate intimacy.

Martin's head falls to the side in the grass, and his eyes, heavy-lidded and dazed, lock on Jon's. The other Martin glances over just a moment later, hips stuttering in their rhythm as he sees Jon watching.

Jon smiles softly, watching the way both of their breaths hitch.

"I love you," he says, and Martin's hips cant up sharply at the same time as his hips thrust down, driving him deep inside himself and drawing a cry of pleasure that could almost be Jon's name from both their lips.

When they come, they come together. Martin wraps his legs around his own waist as he thrusts forward one last time, holding him close, grinding their hips together and keeping him buried inside as the aftershocks wash over them.

They trade kisses as they come down from it, panting against each other's mouths, cupping their faces between gentle hands as they press their lips softly together, little points of contact and sensation to draw the pleasure out. When they finally pause, foreheads resting together, Jon clears his throat.

"Martin?" he calls quietly, unsure if he wants to interrupt this perfect, peaceful moment.

They both hold out a hand to him, and he smiles, and crawls forward over the ground to join them. He kisses the Martin on top first, fingers laced through his hair, smiling against his lips; then he lays down, and places a hand on the cheek of the Martin on the bottom, and kisses him slow and careful as the other Martin finally pulls out of him with a wet noise. Martin inhales sharply against Jon's lips at the loss, and he kisses him again to soothe him through it.

The other Martin puts a hand against his shoulder, rolling him over so that he is lying on his back in the grass. Jon takes the hint, spreading his arms out, and a moment later he has Martin tucked in on both sides of him, heads resting on his shoulders and arms thrown over his chest. They are both very warm from their recent exertion, and better than any blanket.

He wraps his arms around them, squeezing for a moment before shifting to run his fingers through their hair. There are simultaneous puffs of breath across his chest as they both sigh in contentment, and Jon smiles.

"I love you," he says, and thinks he might explode with it when Martin nuzzles his nose into Jon's chest in lieu of an answer, and the other Martin stretches up to kiss the corner of his jaw.

"We love you too," he says for both of them.

Jon closes his eyes, breathing deeply and enjoying the moment. They'll have to continue on their journey soon, and Martin will merge back into one person with the ability to filter whatever inner thoughts he finds most embarrassing, and they will no doubt put this strange little interlude behind them to deal with more important matters.

But for now, safe in this corner of Martin's domain, surrounded by the warmth of the man he loves gently dozing on each side of him, Jon can push it all out of his mind, and rest.


End file.
